


Personal Notes (36) Need a hand?

by longhairshortfuse



Series: Carlos's Secret Diary [36]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: But Carlos doesn't really get it, Dom/sub, Fluff, M/M, Porn, spoilers for ep40
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/pseuds/longhairshortfuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos checks out the abandoned silo as a potential lab for resuming his research activities, encounters a friend, uncovers a betrayal and helps Cecil take his mind off his struggle against his new employers.</p><p>Cecil does science.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silo.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're bored, the porn is in the last chapter. I'm not going to make you wade through six and a bit thousand words without a bit of fun, now, am I?

I took Cecil's advice about my old research. It was just the encouragement I needed, I have been sitting on it, afraid to try, waking in the night with ideas and possibilities but unable to articulate internally what I needed to do. A week or so after I mentioned the abandoned silo, Cecil texted me a coded message. I told Cecil that I thought it wasn't necessary for us to use codes, I mean we could just wait and talk to each other if we were careful, but I think Cecil likes all the covert stuff. We had agreed on a code based on _Real Life: Real Spice_. We each had a copy that neither of us would admit to owning (mine was borrowed from Gio's shelf in the lab, he had hidden it under the dust-jacket from _Core Workout: get fab abs in 10 minutes a day_ ). It was the easy sort of code with each word written as three numbers - page/line/word. Translated, the message was short: _desert noon hole in ground_. I think we need to choose a book with a greater range of specialist vocabulary.

Well before noon I took the lab's Hilux and drove out to the sand wastes in the wrong direction, as we had discussed during one of our walks in the Whispering Forest, checking that I had lost the car that usually follows me. Just to be sure, I got out and took some soil samples and environmental measurements. Occasionally when I have been carrying out fieldwork, the car has stopped and the occupants have come out to ask what I'm doing. I had a carefully prepared monologue about soil science just in case, I had rehearsed it with Cecil and he fell asleep under the trees. It wasn't the first time I had bored someone to sleep, but it was the first time that I was pleased about it.

Once I was sure nobody was following, I cut off-road and made an arc around town, rejoining the network of dusty tracks that pass for minor roads here. I parked, left some monitoring equipment by the Hilux and walked the last half mile or so to the silo. It looked deserted. Not that there was much to see: a large sand-buried circular steel and concrete cap over the deep cylindrical cavity that would have housed the ICBM and a low rectangular bunker that marked the location of the entrance to the underground operations module. It was perfect. There was so little to see from above, the sand could hide most of the structure. I circled the bunker and tried the door. It was unlocked. I went in, putting my head-torch on against the gloom.

I looked around. There was a sketch map of the operations module on the floor. I followed the directions on the map, down two floors into a spacious underground room. The artificial lights did not respond when I clicked the switches and a voice behind me said, "Yeah, great idea mister scientist, the abandoned silo suddenly starts draining grid power. Nobody will think that suspicious."

I froze. "Tamika?"

"Cecil says you can help. Don't get us all caught before you have the chance."

"Sorry. I assumed there would be a generator."

"There is, but it's a backup. We will disable the connection to the local power grid and repair the generator, connect it as primary power for this module. Then at least you can have light down here. Label everything you want to keep, we will deal with the rest. Did you bring...?"

"Yes, of course." I reached into my backpack and brought out a box containing some medical supplies. "I brought these too, I mean if anyone in your army wants them." I handed over a bag containing an ice pack and some chocolate bars.

"We are no longer children," she said, "but thank you anyway." Tamika moved into the beam from my torch. I saw a grim looking young woman, someone who deserved a childhood but would not get the opportunity. I thought about what my life was like when I was thirteen, wondered if I would have coped.

I looked around, identified and labelled which of the abandoned pieces of 1960s electronics might be useful and which could be removed to make room for my temporal loop generator. "How will you dispose of all the scrap?" I asked. The empty room did not reply.


	2. What's your purpose?

Later, at the lab, Ell asked where I had been. I handed her the samples and data I had collected and said I had done an environmental survey to look for any traces of contamination from the 1950s and 60s missile tests that were vehemently denied by the City Council during the whole Radon Canyon fiasco. She took them without further comment, handed me a new file and said, "This will suit you better than environmental analyses. There's a pay-phone that needs your attention." I opened the file. It contained witness reports that the phone behind Taco Bell often rang but never had a dial tone, instead it clicked and hissed and played music that sounded old fashioned yet familiar. Despite this, a succession of strangers had been seen using it, and so had Megan Wallaby, coping physically despite her congenital disability.

"Would this not be better left to the phone repair company?" I asked.

"Suit yourself," Ell shrugged, "just thought it was more your kind of science than soil."

"I'll have a look, I'm going out anyway to meet Cecil for a break before his show.

"Wow!" Ell whistled and grinned. "Taco Bell? Now you're shacked up together you think you can stop trying to impress him? Jeez, Carlos, if you're short of cash..."

"That was not my plan at all! Go easy, it's not like we can just slip upstairs for a cuddle like you and Gio..." She threw a burette filler at me, I caught it and threw it back. I still didn't trust Ell but it was comfortable that we were getting back into our old banter. I could almost forget.

I went to investigate the pay phone but there was a repair crew busy taking it apart and dusting sand from the pieces so I left them alone. I picked up some picnic food at the store and collected Cecil from the station then drove us out to the edge of the Whispering Forest. I heard a voice, several voices in unison in my head. _Oh Carlos, what a lovely shirt. It really suits you, shows off your shape beautifully. Did Cecil give it to you?_ The forest seems to have forgiven me enough to insult me occasionally. I would not dare to come here without Cecil.

"Yes it does, yes I did and leave him alone," said Cecil, smiling and holding my free hand.

We walked and talked until we reached our usual clearing. I asked Cecil about Night Vale's local attractions. As far as I could tell, there was the forest (off limits to most people), a few restaurants, the radio station, the library, Mission Grove Park, the petting zoo and a couple of failed tourist attractions in the desert. The team wanted to find some places to go on their days off. I had written Cecil a silly story about going to an aquarium but here was not one for hundreds of miles in any direction. Cecil told me that the people of Night Vale were proud of their very active imaginations. I could not disagree, I had seen Cecil zone out over his coffee for up to an hour at a time then come to and start asking the most incredible questions. This morning for example:

"What would happen if you crossed a shark with an octopus?

I shrugged and decided not to tell him there was a film on Netflix about that. I like creature features but did not want to sit through _Sharktopus_ without a considerable amount of alcohol

"Not possible, they are too dissimilar. In the wild, their anatomy would probably prevent them from mating. In the lab, their chromosomes would be incompatible and although in-vitro fertilisation might be feasible, the resulting embryo would likely not survive for long." I started to tell Cecil about hybrids like the zorse and the liger but he cut me off with another question.

"Does nature have a purpose? I mean, are other species trying to kill us?"

I stuck with the marine theme. "No, other species just do whatever they can to survive. I mean, a blue whale might kill you just because you happen to be in the way and get crushed. An orca might eat you. You might accidentally brush the stingers of the wrong sort of jellyfish and die in agony. Nature doesn't give a damn about us. Life has no intrinsic purpose, it just _is_ and we have to impose a purpose on it," I paused, shrugged again, "or not."

He thought for a moment, frowned, "Do you think your life has no purpose?"

"No purpose other than what I impose upon myself. And that varies.

"So what is your purpose now?"

"To answer your science questions, clear up and to try to make you happy whenever I can."

He helped me clear the table and hugged me from behind as I washed the coffee cups.

 

As we ate our picnic in the forest, I told Cecil about my visit to the abandoned silo and my meeting with Tamika. He mmhmm-ed and nodded.

"She thinks you're a dork but she likes you. The chocolate helped, nice touch. Was Janice with her?" He turned to make eye contact.

"I am a dork, I know it. I only saw Tamika. Is Janice missing?"

"No, but she can almost pilot a helicopter, she's about to get her badge for that, and has been... wandering off recently. I am equal parts proud and concerned."

"It is a suitable location. There's a generator for lights and minimal power applications but I will have to find an alternative, more substantial, power source for my new machine."

"Tamika said as much. The militia will have your work area cleared in a few days, the generator fixed and a coffee machine installed. The power lines to the grid are cut."

"My notebook is still in the library"

"Guess again, gorgeous!" Cecil pointed at his manbag. "You had better take charge of it, I think I should not take it back to the station. Let me show you tonight's Strex-approved script..." He rummaged in the bag and handed me a sheaf of papers. Eighteen point comic sans text.

It was horrible. The things they wanted Cecil to say about Night Vale, about Desert Bluffs, about productivity, work, work, work, limits, identity, smiling... No wonder it takes him hours of careful preparation to turn this evil material into something he can broadcast and still keep his sense of self intact. I reached out and held him. I had no advice to give, only moral support. I agreed that the notebook should not go anywhere near either the station or the lab. For now, I tried an experiment on the trees. I asked Cecil if it might work, concentrated as hard as I ever have before, squeezed Cecil's hand and asked the forest if it would hide my notebook until I needed it.

We waited.

A whispery voice in my head, _put it down we understand_ I complied, putting the notebook on the ground. It vanished, pulled down under the soil by fingery rootlets that grasped and surrounded it.

For some reason it seemed really important to me today that Cecil knew I loved him. Perhaps my response to the cloak-and-dagger of my trip to the silo, perhaps seeing Cecil so upset about his imposed script, but I told him I love him, he said he knows. We lay back on the picnic blanket, making out under the quiet trees until we had to get back to work. I felt a little hurt when Cecil said not to go to the station any more to meet him, he would come to find me instead. I like turning up when he doesn't expect me.


	3. A what in the where, now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos finds an ally and a betrayal.

At the lab I found another file waiting for me, in Aleck's hand. He was babbling and hopping from foot to foot, telling me that a submarine had appeared in the desert. We drove out with Aleck directing me to the coordinates in the file. We arrived just as the Sheriff's Secret Police volunteer was preparing to enter the vessel, which sat partially submerged in the sand. The hatch opened with a hiss, releasing the stench of old air. The young woman dropped through the hatch. She screamed, the pitch changing, deepening and developing into something animal-like before returning to a more human sound. It was a scream that made us all freeze, I felt it vibrate through my bones and howl inside my skull. Covering my ears made no difference to the intensity of suffering that the dreadful sound conveyed.

The woman returned, climbed out of the hatch with difficulty. She was the same person, except that she was not. She had aged decades in minutes, her previously lithe form now stooping and wasted with her unexpectedly and unfairly advanced years. Two of her colleagues took her away. I moved towards the submarine intending to monitor its energy signature and search for the source of the time shift with my portable temporal anomaly detector but two men blocked my path. The one who was not tall told me to stand back, the one who was not short advised me to look for nothing that I did not want to find. Aleck put a hand on my arm to discourage me from pushing past them and quietly said, "you need to stay safe, for Cecil's sake and ours." I turned to look at him, open mouthed. I would ask my questions later. He continued, turning slightly red, "Susan told me to help keep you safe."

We watched as the two men entered the submarine and emerged carrying objects that included a large Russian-speaking gentleman with very little hair and only fifty percent the expected complement of hands, an old rotary dial phone with no receiver cord and a Night Vale newspaper article from 1983 that did not match local memory of that year's events. I thought about diverging timelines, different versions of reality, the potential theoretical pitfalls of time travel, but dragged myself back to the present. I would talk through the possibilities later with Cecil if he was willing. He does not have to listen closely. I think better with him around. He has a knack of asking just the right questions when my thought processes stutter.

We waited until most of the official representatives had left then Aleck and I investigated the submarine carefully, using the danger meter to indicate the relative risk. I had recalibrated it to a more suitable scale for Night Vale. After Strex moved in it permanently pointed to _100 you are already dead._ We decided that we would back off only if it read higher than _80 like flicking a hungry lion's testicles with a wet towel._ We advanced carefully, regularly checking the meter and taking readings with every piece of monitoring equipment we could carry. I shook the danger meter when the needle slammed into the far right, off the scale and quivering.

"Look," I said, "Even the danger meter is afraid." Aleck pulled me out of the submarine roughly. He is surprisingly strong.

"You don't get it, do you? We. Need. You. Safe. Susan and Cecil have made that Very Clear. Ask Cecil. If you want to be an idiot and get killed that's up to you but Susan..." He shrugged, palms up and out. "You know what it's like. I mean you're..."

"In love?" I finished his sentence. "Yes. Okay if Cecil told you not to let me get killed than I suppose I will stop making your job harder. So... Susan?"

Jeez, do I look like that when someone mentions Cecil?

We returned to the lab to find it quiet. Ell had finished for the day and Aleck went upstairs to get ready for his date with Susan. Leah was there, peering down a microscope before fitting the camera to the eyepiece. Her notes were beside her and I watched her unfasten her favourite blade to massage the stump of her thigh.

"Does it hurt?" I asked. She jumped a little, she had not realised I was there.

"I suppose, It's tight. Just rubs sometimes."

For once I interpreted a facial expression correctly. "I'm sorry, I'm intruding." I went into my little office and double-clicked on my Cecil icon. His webcam view appeared on my screen. I texted him, as I always do when I can watch his broadcast, and he grinned, blowing a kiss at the camera as he always does when he knows I'm here.

Cecil mentioned that he had received texts from Dana who is lost in the Dog Park and who was seen leaving the house that does not exist. I'm glad she can contact Cecil, he misses Dana enough that he has printed out a copy of her photo from his "selfie with new intern" album and pinned it up in his study.

How do I describe what I heard next? I know I have remembered this out of order, too many thoughts crowding in all at once. Cecil's precarious position was made very clear. He said he had a "delicate" relationship with the new station management. That was quite a euphemism. I know Cecil hates them. I was a little surprised when Ceil described his new programme director, Lauren Mallard, as a "delight" until moments later he said she was in the studio at that moment. Ye _s, with a knife at his throat_ I thought. Lauren's voice set my teeth on edge, perhaps because of what I suspected of the way Strex intended to plunder the station and the town. My Cecil and My Town.

I listened in horror and disgust to the whole interaction with Lauren Mallard. She was insane. I froze when she asked about me and understood why Cecil didn't want me around the station any more.

I started as Leah, leg reattached, opened my office door, came in and sat down. I looked at her, my best "questioning eyebrow" expression on my face (the one that makes Cecil laugh but the team tremble). Leah said, "I think I know what you're up to" I played dumb. She wasn't falling for it. "Not here. I've swept." She pointed upstairs.

I followed Leah up one flight to her apartment that was even more cramped than mine had been. Just a lounge and a door leading to what I assumed was a bedroom. I sat on the chair pointed out for me.

"Science-bitch Ell works for Strex," she began.

"We all do, check your payslip and watch your mouth. Ell is my friend," I replied. "Why am I here?" I am a sucker for a pretty face and a good story. In my opinion, Leah had neither.

"Because I know what you are doing at the silo," she replied. Shit, I had been seen or tracked.

"Oh? Enlighten me." I said, planning what to do about her if this exchange went badly and wondering if that fucking dragon could help with disposal.

"You're seeing someone else, not Cecil," she said, wildly off the mark. "Some under age girl." I couldn't help myself. I laughed in surprise and slapped the arm of the chair.

"Oh you're so fucking wrong," I said. "How on earth did you come up with that? I'm sure Ell had nothing to do with it. Come on, what is this really about?" Leah scowled and sat.

After a minute she got up again and performed a bug sweep, an odd action for someone who claimed to have already cleared listening devices. Three located and destroyed. She spoke quickly.

"Boss I'm sorry, they made me, if I got you to say something important I'd get to move to the new lab over in Desert Bluffs where..."

I cut her off. "I've been there, it's never pleasant. Don't be someone else's fool. What does Ell think?" A pause. A sigh.

"She thinks I should go home to Chicago."

"Well she might be right. But if you show some independence here, resist Strex and be your own person, then Chicago will feel very limiting in comparison with Night Vale. Who are the "they" you mentioned"

"Lauren and Daniel from the station. They came by when everyone else was out. I thought if I said I thought you were doing something unspeakably awful you might tell me what was really going on out there."

This needed careful handling. Ell worked for Strex, Lauren and Daniel worked for Strex, Leah worked for herself and that made her unpredictable and unreliable, open to the most tempting offer. Leah and Ell were not working together as far as I could tell. I doubted I could get any significant misinformation past Ell, but Leah might be more careless. I said, "Put the radio on. And don't talk. I need to think."

I made a mental list.

Scientists I can trust: Aleck.

Scientists I can't trust: Ell, Leah.

Scientists I can't trust by association: Gio, Estrella

Cecil described a relationship between Night vale and some town in Russia. I had never heard of it, I wondered if it came from the same region of his brain as Luftnarp. "Nulogorsk" had been Night Vale's twin town until the nineties when NV residents and pen-pals realised that Nulogorsk was stuck in 1983. I could think of worse years to be stuck in. _Arpanet_ became the intranet. Fraggle Rock started. _Challenger_ flew for the first time, I remembered watching the launch on TV in my usual way: with my fingers crossed, forgetting to breathe. (I remembered also a very different scene from 1986 when on re-entry from another mission something went so horribly wrong). The metric unit of length was officially defined in terms of the speed of light, which most people still think is a constant. Martin Luther King day officially began and the Delorean car company went out of business. I smiled internally. Eighty-eight miles an hour, flux capacitor, if only it was that easy.

Cecil reported on the submarine, on the strange man inside and on his strange sacrifice. I struggled with the biology behind the grafting operation, but I'm not a medical scientist. Megan now has a body to help her integrate with her community. Leah was not impressed but I pointed out that she is happy to use her blade when she needs to move efficiently or her anatomically correct prosthesis if she wants to look like she has two natural legs and I couldn't see the difference between that and Megan wanting to fit in more easily and make human friends. I also told Leah that she needed to choose a side, the sooner the better, and went back down to the lab to finish downloading data from the sensors Aleck and I retrieved from the submarine.

Cecil came to see me in the lab after his show. I texted to say should I pick him up, but he said no, don't come here. I was in the break room, plotting out a three dimensional map of the submarine's energy signature, danger levels and relative temporal shift coefficients when Cecil arrived.

"What are you doing?"

"Mapping three variables against spatial location in three dimensions," I replied. "Pass me the blue wool." He handed me a ball of dark blue two-ply. I measured up from the scale plan of the submarine I had marked out on the floor with masking tape and looped the wool at the correct height around the cane support. "Nearly done."

"Can I help? If I science can I wear a lab coat?" I was glad of some assistance. Leah did not come back to finish her shift and I did not want her company in any case. I gave Cecil a thigh-length lilac lab coat, a quick kiss, my data table, an array of squares each with three colour-coded numbers in it, and asked him to read out the blue figures for the squares I indicated.

"G3"

"27"

"G4"

"14"

So we continued until Cecil reached the last blue number. I stepped out of my craft-work and looked at it.

"See any patterns?" I asked. Cecil walked around it, looked from floor level along the regular lines of vertical canes, stood up on the bench and looked from above.

"Do the blue strings and the red strings oppose each other, one goes up the other goes down?"

"Yes, I thought that. It's unusual but danger goes up when energy density goes down. I thought there was a problem with my equipment because the reading from where the danger meter went off the scale," I stepped carefully into my model and tapped an upright, changed my voice to a whisper, "was for negative energy output. And that makes no sense to me right now, the lowest any radiated quantised energy can get is zero-point energy and that is not even zero despite the name. Theoretically it is possible depending on which branch of physics you choose to believe in, but never demonstrated in a satisfactory way despite the Casimir effect although Gauss's gravitational law can give interesting results for mass, which is just another kind of energy, and there are a few who have postulated properties of negative mass. Just because we have never observed something, it does not necessarily follow that it will never exist." Normal voice again, "See anything in the yellow?"

He looked again. "No. You realise I have absolutely no idea what you were just talking about?"

"Sorry, it doesn't matter but I will explain it later if you want. Sometimes I need to talk it out and I feel silly talking to my coffee. The temporal anomaly pattern looks random. It may be that the young detective was simply very unlucky, or that the whole area was hot with temporal loops but cooled off by the time we were allowed inside. I would love to know where that submarine came from really." I leaned against the wall and he sat opposite me, on the bench.

"You look good in that lab coat," I said, "It almost matches your eyes." He smiled.

"Can I keep it then?" I nodded.

"Add it to your collection?"

"I only have three, four now. Let's go home and use my new one _for science_ "

I moved in close, leaned against the bench beside him and spoke just loud enough in his ear.

"I love it when you talk dirty."


	4. Take comfort where you can (or Cecil Does Science)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil knows what he wants, but can Carlos play along?  
> Porn. That's all.

Cecil wore the lilac lab coat as we walked home hand in hand. I asked him about his show, about Lauren, had he been threatened. He just squeezed my hand a little.

"I have a new script. I am no longer allowed to write my own show unless I read their propaganda exactly as it is written."

"That sucks. Is it bad?"

"It's terrible. I'll show you, it is not even well written. The grammar is terrible and if you can't use metaphor... " He sighed. "It will be very difficult to work around it and get any real news out there."

"Can I help?"

"You can stay safe and keep me sane."

Despite the obvious opportunity, this was probably not the best time for me to bring up Aleck's behaviour at the submarine. Instead, I let go Cecil's hand and put my arm around his waist. Five minutes of walking in step and we were home.

As soon as the front door closed behind us, Cecil wrapped himself around me and held on tight. He was breathing deeply, controlled, as if stifling panic. I held him and stroked his back. Eventually he loosened his grip and we went into his study.

"Show me your new script." He handed it over. He was right, it was appalling both in content and in style. It was full of references to _productivity_ and _work_ and _smiling god_ and _our neighbours in Desert Bluffs..._ I could go on but I felt sick reading it.

I shook my head. "You can't read this out."

"I know! But I can't _not_ read it out either."

I read through it again. "You know, with a few changes, you might make this work."

"How?"

"It's in the way you say things sometimes. You say something in your show and I just know you mean the opposite." He looked at me, one eyebrow raised, mouth set horizontal.

"No really, trust me. You can make this shit mean whatever you want it to by using your voice. Maybe you are the Voice of Night Vale for a reason, and maybe this is the reason."

"You can really tell what I'm thinking by the way I say something?"

"Usually. Can't you work me out like that?" I put the script on the desk.

"Hmmm, I guess. Can I read it to you later, see if I can reinterpret or filter it enough?" I nodded and hugged him on the little sofa. "In the meantime," he said, "let me see if I can _work you out_ with _sciiiennnce_ "

Cecil landed on top of me and we kissed with a comfortable warmth. I stroked my fingers along his jawline from ear to the point of his chin then strained up to kiss him harder, catching his lower lip against my teeth, using my tongue to explore, breathing the same air.

"Not so fast," he stopped me and sat up. "I said that when it was my turn to wear the lab coat..." I groaned. I was equal parts excited and terrified by the prospect of Cecil out for revenge for my "scientific examination" of him after what we referred to as _the sharklos affair_.

"Here?" I asked.

"You'll see. Or maybe you won't." Oh fuck.

Cecil looked down at me, laughed and said, "I think you like that idea. Pick a code word for stop" I thought for a minute.

"What about _stop_ "

"No that won't do at all. There has been at least one time you asked me to stop what I was doing and you _really_ didn't mean it."

"Okay. Hmm. What about _Huwawa_?"

"Nice use of Sumerian, but it needs to be a word that I won't mistake for one of your happy noises."

"Radon?"

"That will do. Neat for yes, radon for no. Okay with that?"

"Neat."

"Good boy." The radio voice drawled it out. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck I hadn't seen a really dominant side of Cecil, we kind of took turns and kept things pretty tame, restraints that either of us could get out of in seconds, no demands, a lot of giggling. I was surprised by just how much I was getting turned on.

He told me to go upstairs to our bedroom and followed me up. He put a blindfold on me and told me to wait. I heard him return and put something solid down.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Hmmm, there's a word missing. Try again."

"What do you want me to do... sir?"

"Better." Lips on mine. Tongue on mine. Empty air.

"I want you to take your clothes off slowly,"

I did. Cecil told me to slow down twice. When I got it right my reward was a hot, passionate kiss. When I got it wrong I heard a light clinking noise and I received an ice-cold shock, first on a nipple then on the back of my hips, followed by a stimulating trickle of melt water between my buttocks.

"Stop." I froze.

"I'm not finished... Aaah!" Ice on my other nipple.

Normal voice, "are you okay with this?"

"neat"

"I won't ask again, it's up to you to use the code word. Radon, remember?"

"neat... sir." I could feel his grin as I was rewarded with another very hot, slow kiss.

"My turn," he said. "I want you to undress me. Slowly."

I carefully reached out until my hands made contact with Cecil. I felt my way slowly up to his collar and unfastened his tie, sliding out the knot and pulling the wide end so that the narrow end slipped slowly from around his collar. I dropped it. My hands returned to Cecil. I felt for his shirt buttons and unfastened them one at a time, letting them pop out of their buttonholes from the hem to the collar. I ran my hands slowly across his shoulders and down his sleeves to unfasten the cuffs. I raised his hand, kissed then sucked a finger.

"Aaaah!" Ice cold along my collarbone. "Sorry sir."

I peeled Cecil's shirt from his shoulders, shook it out and let it drop. "MMMmmf," hot mouth on mine again. I was aroused, I wanted to touch him. I stroked his shoulders and arms.

"Aaaaahh!" sudden cold shock all along my other collarbone.

"Hands off for now," he said. "I said I'd make you wait."

I felt lower for his waistband, hooked my fingers around the fastening. Ice on my neck.

"Shoes?"

"Yes, sir."

I knelt, loosened his laces and pulled off his shoes and socks. Hot kiss when I stood up again. Very hot. Hands back to his waistband. I undid the fastenings and slid his suit trousers down, knelt again to take them off one leg at a time then tossed them aside. When I stood up, a hot kiss on each of my still chilled nipples. I put my hands in his hair and leaned in to it. I let go suddenly.

"Radon!"

The ice was removed from the crease between my thigh and my groin. He stroked his fingers from my neck down my chest and stomach.

"Neat" I felt for his waist again and removed his shorts, resisting the temptation to plant both hands firmly on his buttocks and take him in my mouth right then. I wondered if he had enough ice left to stop me.

"Not yet," he said.

"Did you read my mind, sir? Aaaaaah!" Ice again, on my coccyx and another icy gravity-driven rivulet made me twitch.

"No questions."

Cecil took both of my hands, led me to the bed and pushed me so that I fell on my back. I felt him straddle me then another deep kiss. A cold one. He sat up, shuffled down and trailed his cold tongue up the length of my erect penis. My core muscles twitched and I got even harder. He sat up, leaned over me again and took my penis into his chilled mouth. I gasped out a "neat!" at the enhanced sensation. I felt a familiar tingle start. He stopped, took his fantastically talented mouth away and I moaned in disappointment.

"You are going to beg me to turn you over and enter you."

"Ah, please Cecil, sir, I want you inside me."

"Not good enough."

"Aaaaaaahh!" a hot kiss followed by sudden ice cold on my groin.

"Cecil, please sir, please use me, I want you inside me, I want you inside me until you come."

Hot tongue circled the glans of my penis, making me twitch again. "I suppose that will do. Sit up."

He took my hands and tied my wrists together securely, testing for circulation in my fingernails. "Kneel on the bed." I did as I was told. Cecil secured my bound wrists to the bedstead. I could move my arms enough to support myself but I couldn't touch him, or myself. I considered a _radon_ but let my lust override my brain. Dammit, I was _loving_ this game despite my embarrassment at not really knowing how to play.

Cecil kissed the back of my neck. I felt his erection touch against me and pushed back into him a little. "Aaah," cold but not too cold on my entrance. A finger spreading the slick coolness then pushing in. "Mmmmmph" I pushed back against him again. He moved his finger in deeper, feeling around, twitching his fingertip. I sucked in air, sank my head down and moaned as the tingle returned.

"Not so fast, you want ice there?" Fuck!

"No sir," gasped.

"Then keep still. Here," he pulled me back so that my arms were outstretched and my knees were up at an angle that prevented me from rocking backwards. I had no option but to stay in position as he entered two hot fingers slowly. I bit the bedding to stop myself from crying out. "Say it," he said, 'beg for it."

"Oh Cecil, sir, I want more, I want your enormous hard dick in me. Please sir, fuck me now."

I think he stifled a giggle but I couldn't be sure. He did not stop playing with me with his fingers, pushing them in and out slowly, sometimes a little twist or a twitch that made me tingle and moan as he judged when to stop. He carried me close, so close then backed me off. It was going to hurt if he didn't let me release. Just as I was forming the words _Holy fuck Cecil sir, if you don't get in there and fuck me now I'm going to come just from thinking about it_ he shifted and entered me properly. I howled out the first three words with pleasure as he put one arm around me to hold me still, massaged my erection with his other hand and thrusted into me until I came hard, the spasms of my orgasm bringing him panting to a climax.

We stayed perfectly still for a moment, me collapsed as far as possible on the bed, him collapsed on me. He slid round beside me, stroked my head. Kissed my hair. I heard a click, felt him reach up and cut the ties around my wrists. I flopped over onto my side, facing him, removed the blindfold. He was watching me, his expression carefully neutral.

"That was... intense," I said.

"Too much?" I shook my head.

"Fucking awesome," this seemed to be the right answer. "But maybe not... I mean... sometimes..."

He finished my half-formed thought. "Just sometimes when we both want it."

"Mmmmm." I snuggled up to him. After that I wanted to be held and never let go.

"Cecil?"

"Mmmhmmf?"

"Were you laughing at me during that?"

"What? No..."

"You're laughing at me now, I can feel it."

"Perhaps we could work out some submissive dialogue in advance for next time."

"Neat."

 


End file.
